


Dyatlov's Disaster in the Pripyat Hospital

by mekkababble



Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, M/M, Mickey Mouse might get off, Multi, Oral Sex, Pripyat evacuation, Putin quotes, Soviet realism, The Scientific Method, Threesome - F/M/M, dirty russian proverbs, sex with ghosts, some actual Soviet history, some actual science, tasteless 9/11 jokes, too many penis euphemisms, too many radiation sex puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 02:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20332711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mekkababble/pseuds/mekkababble
Summary: Anatoly Dyatlov awakes in the Pripyat hospital confronted with the specter of an unfathomable disaster. The more of the truth he uncovers, the more he wants to hide in the comfort of his lies. As he puzzles it out, Pripyat is about to see more evacuations.This is not a fan fiction. This is a spirit quest. You will read this and life will never be same. Prepare yourself and then proceed.





	Dyatlov's Disaster in the Pripyat Hospital

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ahimsabitches](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahimsabitches/gifts).

> I was asked to write a Chernobyl porn. Because I'm insane, I agreed.

Anatoly Dyatlov came to behind a curtain of plastic. A statue crafted in the nightmarish bourgeois likeness of Mickey Mouse gazed at him from the corner, like a sentinel. Its reason for being in the Pryipat hospital was locked in a safe behind an Iron curtain somewhere. It was the Soviet Union, facts were fuzzy and largely irrelevant. 

Speaking of fuzzy, Dyatlov couldn't recall how he himself ended up in the hospital. But he dismissed it because order of operations didn't matter. What he did know is that he awoke from an incubus in which Chernobyl No 4 reactor exploded. That? That was impossible. Dyatlov knew that fact was as solid as the Mickey Mouse statue watching him. 

He made some vague attempt to set himself upright, but Dyatlov was bound by his wrists with gauze to the bed. He leaned back against the browning pillow and stared at the peeling ceiling. The room felt more like a dungeon than a place of medicine and science. Dyatlov's eyes drifted left to a window. The world was pitch black save a pillar of blue light that shot up towards infinity, like a singular beam reminiscent of New York's 9/11 memorial. 

"But that's impossible," Dyatlov sputtered aloud. "9/11 hasn't happened yet!" Again, fuzzy facts. 

"Comrade Dyatlov." 

He craned his neck so that his head was perpendicular to the bed. The voice was so real, so high, he assumed it came from the Soviet realist version of Mickey Mouse. After all, Soviet realism was just as real as real realism. His bewilderment was complete when he saw a vision of Vladimir I. Lenin, the namesake of this very plant. He wore nothing but a bear skin cape and knee high riding boots. 

Dyatlov managed to laugh. The Mickey statue, decrepit hospital, the implication that the Chernobyl No 4 RMBK Reactor exploded, and now an apparition of Comrade Lenin who in reality was resting comfortably in his crystal coffin in Red Square. He drew the only logical conclusion. "These dirty Americans did a masterful job here. Colossal, painstaking attention to detail. The only thing they missed is bears and accordions!"

"Only a dick knows what happened." Lenin replied. "My dick."

At its mention, Dyaltov fixated on the organ as long and floppy as a liquidator's firehose. 

"This isn't real." Dyatlov asserted, more to Mickey Mouse than Lenin. "I've spent too many years being an impeccable manager of the safest nuclear power plant in the world to be taken in by a dirty capitalist trick. The radiation is making me hallucinate."

"Apparitions aren't a lingering effect of fallout, Comrade. However, my mutated penis is. As you can see it's been affected by giantism." Lenin said, wrapping his arms around his heat-seaking-moisture-missle-manufactured-in-Ulyanovsk to heft it upwards. 

The Comrade spoke truth. Lenin's hose trans mutated into something larger by the second. Dyatlov was too distracted to notice the same thing happening to him. When he did, he saw his control rod trying to stand at attention. What the Tula miners had in numbers, Dyatlov and Lenin made up for in size. 

"Don't call me Comrade. Call me Commander Cock." Dyatlov said as Lenin approached the plastic sheet. Just as the apparition found the break in the curtain and was about to snake his fingertips through, he paused. 

And Dyatlov moaned in need, wanting to plug his control rod into a reactor core to cause yet another explosion. "Why did you stop? You're already a radiation induced ghost. I can't poison you."

"You know, Comrade." Lenin lilted, "the plastic isn't to stop the spread of your cesium infested seed, it's to protect burn victims from infection. How do you call yourself a scientist?" 

"How dare you!" Dyatlov fought against the gauze and tried to make eye contact with Lenin. "I am the Chief Engineer of your power plant! I attended the Moscow Engineering Physics Institute and installed reactors in submarines in Komsomolsk-on-Amur, which you wouldn't know just from watching the show."

"Then you should know that radiation doesn't cause delusions. HBO got that right, even if you and my great great grandson Putin disagree. Maybe I should ask a real life scientist to explain this to you." 

"Who? Legasov?"

"I said a real scientist- Ulana Khomyuk."

Right on cue, Khomyuk strode into the room in nurse's garb, armed with a clipboard and dosimeter. Her hair was hidden in a white paper hat and her eyes sparkled like hot graphite as she eyed Dyatlov's erection. The scene for a disaster was set. 

Dyatlov felt dizzy and weak, nauseated by the sight of the woman who fought to emasculate him in front of the Party officials. He gagged and coughed, on reflex. But Khomyuk was undaunted. She waved her diode of her dosimeter over him and stopped at his stomach. Dyatlov's scratchy breath matched the rapid clicks of the machine. 

"Hmmm." Khomyuk said. "I'm measure 3.6 roentgen. Not great, not terrible. We'll need to check the radiation levels in the core."

"I'll get the control rod ready, because we're about to see some fusion." Lenin said. 

"And beta decay." Khomyuk added. "We need to lower this man's exposure fast or he'll have a 50% chance of dying in the next 30 days."

Mickey Mouse smiled, delighting in the show.

"As a rule of thumb, 80% decontamination begins with removing one's clothes." 

"And 15% more is taking a shower." Lenin said. He removed his bearskin cape and ran to a closet to produce a bucket that he dragged to Dyatlov's bed.

Dyatlov craned his head to see its contents. "Brilliant, Comrade! You're as brilliant as your namesake! Pour boron and sand to cool me off!" 

Khomyuk passed the plastic without hesitation, and placed the dosimeters's diode between Dyatlov's legs. "Not yet." She said to Lenin and Dyatlov both. "We need to reach the meltdown phase first. Now that I'm standing in the plastic with Dyatlov, I'm radioactive too."

Dyatlov gestured with his chin at Lenin. "But he said that the plastic was to protect a burn victim." 

In response, Khomyuk slapped him across the face. Hard. "Truth is not in accordance with the Leninist goal of the Party as determined by the 20th, 21st, and 22st Congresses" 

Lenin only shrugged apologetically. 

Dyatlov's face cheek flushed red like a radiation burn- a burn that soon spread to 100% of his body as Khomyuk secured her white hat, for safety, and slowly removed her scrubs. The white-turned-red-and-brown fabric slid past her milky shoulders and down her arms to expose atomic globes that must've had the weight of uranium, but her nipples as tall as two Twin Towers. 

"Blyat!" Shouted Dyatlov. "The Twin Towers haven't been constructed, either!" 

Based on their limited interaction in the mini series, Dyatlov wasn't sure what Khomyuk would do next. All he knew was that Lenin was pumping his cock rocket like water pumped into the nonexistent core while Khomyuk- a real Soviet scientist- stood licking the diode, lubricating it for a core check. Dyatlov really, really hoped it would also check the state of his prostate through his anus which he was totally into just in case that wasn't clear. He started to bare down in preparation and was really proud he didn't take a glowing radioactive poo. 

"No!" Lenin said, his liquidator hose looking more and more like boron control rod with a sparkly graphite tip. "You can't use saliva to check a core temperature... which is done through the ass, just in case that wasn't clear. "You need a radiation resistant grease- one that thickens and turns dark and bonds to organic molecules as it heats up." 

"I know." Khomyuk said. 

In the meantime, Dyatlov felt his erection reduce by an angle of 3.6 degrees- not terrible, not great- but Khomyuk fixed that really quickly by wrapping Dytalov's, member with her hand and squeezing. She eyed Lenin and tossed a lackadaisical wink at the ever watchful Mickey Mouse who seemed to be mutating a bulge of its own. "Mice are prone to tumors. That's why we use them so often in cancer experiments."

Dyatlov nodded, vaguely annoyed that he found himself getting more hard at the sight of a steel statue getting hard(er) watching him. It was way more sexy than 9/11, anyways. 

"No matter," Khomyuk continued, "I'm about to examine your ass like it's the Kyshtym alien." She dipped the diode, all 6 inches of it, down her throat. She held it there and sucked on it. And held it there more. She foundled the dials on the Geiger counter while breathing around the diode, clearly enjoying herself. Khomyuk feel to her knees and worshipped the diode in her mouth like it was a scared Orthodox icon. When her mouth and tongue weren't exploring every inch of its metallic glory, her fingers ghosted its tips to further rise the rate of its static-y ticks. Comrade Khomyuk pulled away briefly for air, licked her already wet lips, and dove back onto the diode to offer it further pleasure from her delightful tongue. Khomyuk gripped the base of the diode and threw a subtle wink at Dyatlov before she kissed the tip of the diode like it was a hero diving under the reactor to turn off the water pumps.

"No! No! And no! And stop getting off to this!" Dyatlov's last comment, of course, directed at their fearless founder, Lenin. "Fucking a geiger counter isn't sexy! Now get that diode against my prostate where it belongs!" 

Khomyuk shrugged. She moved in, gave the diode a couple of kisses and then dropped it between her legs to moisten her sex. She then turned to Lenin, who was pumping coolant into the room from his hose. "I think the diode is lubricated enough. We can accurately examine the core." She flipped Dyatlov onto his stomach and placed the diode vertically between his cheeks. 

Dyatlov flexed his hips in anticipation and clenched his ass cheeks down the length of the diode. He shook with anticipation. Each second dragging into minutes for when Khomyuk would shift the angle and plunge the diode into his waiting buttocks. She moved it slightly, possibly by accident as she placed her free hand on her hip to observe Lenin who waded out of a puddle of coolant to ghost the tips of Khomyuk's erect nipples. 

"No." Khomyuk tensed. Dylatov felt it with another jolt of the diode. It rested right against his entrance and he bore down to heighten the sensation. The longer she waited, the colder the metal rod got. "The scientific process must be followed." 

"Yes." Dyaltov moaned. "Check the core temperature! Just like you said"

"No." Khomyuk said again. "I'm seeing good response efficiency in the subject. Now we must reduce the void coefficient of reactivity. This is done by an increase of fuel enrichment."

She removed the diode and Dyatlov groaned in frustration. He was so hard it was difficult, if not painful, to lie on his stomach yet no one came to offer him relief. But the Mickey Mouse statue seemed to have inched closer. 

Khomuk turned to Lenin and then at the melted waste he left on the floor. She dipped the diode in it and coated it in semen then gave it another lick, graciously swallowing. 

Lenin watched with crossed arms and a deadpan expression. "I can go again." 

"Good." Khomyuk watched Dyatlov squirm with no small amount of sadism. "I'll allow him to learn about proper core monitoring." 

Khomyuk re-lubricated the core and rubbed Lenin's back, gradually moving her fingertips to massage his scrotum. Lenin still stood upright but flexed into her touch. She wrapped her arm around his hips to hold him against her and placed the diode between his buttocks. She pressed it in with a squish and a moan until it was buried deep. 

Lenin breathed heavily and landed on his knees with his legs spread wide as he bore down to displace the diode. But Khomyuk was resolute and gave the diode a twist. She spanked Lenin over and over and over until he relaxed likely out of exhaustion instead of pleasure. 

The dosimeter clicked so rapidly that it was constant static. Khomyuk paused to look at its face and pushed the diode a bit deeper. "This is measuring at least 1,000 roentgen."

"It's broken!" Dyatlov shouted. "Try it in another location. Like my ass!"

"No. It just needs more time to take a measurement." Khomyuk replied.

Lenin remained on his knees, breathing heavily he both delighted in and resented the sensation of the cold diode positioned in his ass. Khomyuk jolted it so that it rubbed against his prostate and blood rushed from his head, making him lightheaded and free. Or maybe it was the radiation. The dosimeter did measure 1,000 roentgen.

Khomyuk ignored Dyaltov's increasingly jealous barbs and she pressed her breasts against Lenin's back and pumped the diode in and out of his tight hole until he grew erect yet again. She moved the diode faster at first and then penetrated him with the diode's full 6 inches. She held there and kissed the back of his neck. Lenin clenched his cheeks as tight as he could as his passion exploded, unlike Chernobyl because obviously that kind of accident was impossible. When he relaxed again, Khomyuk removed the diode and looked at the reading again. 

"Measurement is accurate. If we don't leave, we're going to die." She said. 

"It felt so good to just evacuate all over Pripyat." Lenin moaned. "So let's leave this radioactive mess and go somewhere sexier and safer."

"The Mayak Chemical Combine?" Khomyuk asked.

"And then Lake Karachay." Lenin said, his voice still breathy.

Khomyuk and Lenin gave each other a mutual ass grab and moved towards the exit. 

"Wait! Wait" Dyatlov shouted after her. "I never got fucked!"

Khomyuk turned to give him a sultry wink and eyed the Mickey Mouse statue. "Well Comrade Mouse is still here. Ask him."

**Author's Note:**

> You chose to read this. That's time from your life you'll never get back. 
> 
> Thank you for the opportunity to give you that experience.


End file.
